The Raven's Wish (45 page)

He stopped onto the wide shelf she occupied and stood over her, hands fisted on hip ships. "And how did you get up here? They are half mad below looking for you."

She smiled and shifted to the side, making space for him to sit beside her. When he stood there still glaring down at her, she patted the rock. "Come now, Duncan Macrae," she said. "You will not grudge the little freedom left to me, will you?"

He sighed and sat, dangling his legs beside hers over the rock shelf. "You could have come to harm, coming all the way up here alone."

"Ach, it is not far. You fuss like an old woman. Your own grandmother does not fuss at me as you do lately."

"With reason, as I fear for your safety. Or your balance, at least." He smiled.

"Remember, you brought me up here yourself just a few weeks ago. I like it up here." She leaned against the support of the rock behind her. The solid bulk of her belly was round and smooth beneath the shapeless woolen gown she wore. A plaid of Fraser blue and green covered her shoulders and full breasts. Her slender bare legs and feet swung out beneath the hem of the gown. "Although this will be the last time I climb up here for a while. True, I do not have the balance I used to have."

He grunted at that, but did not laugh. He knew to tread carefully through her high and low moods of late, though Innis had assured him that this would pass with the birth of the child. "You could have asked me to come up with you. I would have taken you a little way up."

"As if I were a feeble thing, when I am so strong and healthy? There are at least two months left before he will be born. I came as far as was safe. The first time we came up here, you led me much higher." She pointed behind and above, where the grassy slope became a rocky, challenging climb, where cloud rings hung suspended. "I had to come up today. The air is so clear and sweet here."

She swept her hands wide, and he looked with her over green hills dusted with yellow and white mountain wildflowers. Below, he saw Dulsie Castle, its square stone tower nestled on the green fairy hill, the long slope of the mountain at its back carpeted with tree cover.

He looked down the hill on which he and Elspeth sat, and saw five plaided Highlanders climbing the long slope toward them. He waved, seated at the edge of the rock. One of them saw him—Ewan, by the gleam of the dark red hair—and waved back. Magnus was there too, his blond braids pale golden ropes. Duncan waved again, and the Frasers stopped, hands on hips, heads tilted back to look up the slope. Elspeth waved now and called out as they came closer.

Kenneth grinned, his dark head a burnished gleam in the sun. Hugh and Callum were with him, running ahead, Magnus and Ewan following as the Frasers headed back toward the castle, satisfied now that Elspeth had been found.

"I came up here to think," she said, watching them go. "My cousins are a noisy lot, singing and dancing until deep in the night."

"You enjoyed the music last night, as I did."

"Ah, but the sound of their ceilidh still rings in my ears. I wanted peace to think," she said, "about brothers. About yours, and mine, and about my cousins."

"Thinking about your half brother as well?"

"Robert is now in that same black cell that held you. What will happen to him?"

"I had a letter recently from Maitland. Robert Gordon's friends on the council are embarrassed about what happened. They are trying to avoid an execution, though many think Robert deserves one. But the matter makes them look like simpletons who lost their senses when Moray and Maitland left town. Robert will probably be exiled as quietly as possible in order to save their dignity. They would like to see the whole matter forgotten." He drew a deep breath and looked out over the bright slopes. "Maitland has asked me to return to Edinburgh. There are some cases he would like me to take on."

Elspeth glanced at him quickly. "Will you go?"

He did not look at her. His gaze scanned the green hills, the blue sky, the lavender shoulders of the mountains far beyond. A pair of golden eagles swooped down from the mountain just behind them, gliding together toward a sparkling blue loch far in the distance. He watched them for a long time before he answered.

"This morning I wrote my reply," he said. "Tomorrow I will send my gillie to run it south to Edinburgh. " He looked at her then. "My place is here. My heart is here, where you are now."

She let out a breath, a sigh of relief, he thought. She leaned into him, pressing her arm to his, and the warmth of her body flowed through him.

"You belong here. It is a good place to be," she said. "Duncan, I was also thinking about the fact that you lost four brothers and a father, and yet have gained my cousins, who now consider you like a brother to them."

"Aye," he said gruffly.

"And I was thinking that my cousins are better than brothers to me. I have gained you as well. There are so many men in my life," she added earnestly. "Fine, strong, brave men. I love them all so much. We will have sons, Duncan," she said then, an eagerness brightening her voice. "Four at least, I feel, and one daughter."

He lifted a brow. "A lot of names to choose."

"One at a time. We could name the lads for your brothers," she said.

"Iain, Gillean, Lachlann and Conor," he murmured.

"Wonderful names!" She laughed, the sound soothing his heart.

"And the girl?"

"Mary, of course," she said.

"For Mairi?"

"For Mary the Queen." Elspeth's smile left her face, and her eyes went deep in color. "We will name her for a woman whose courage and beauty will be a legend in some future time. And our wee girl will find her own courage somewhere in her life." She glanced away. Duncan saw the gleam of tears in her eyes as she went silent. He reached over and touched her arm.

"Come, girl," he said. "My grandmother is asking where you have gone. She sent us all out to find you. We had best go back."

"Innis will understand that I had to get away. Besides, she has little time to worry about me, with all the visitors Magnus and Kirsty brought back with them from Glenran."

Duncan laughed in agreement. "It seems as if Castle Glenran has moved to Dulsie."

"Everyone did come along. And Flora has promised to stay as long as I need her, to be here for the birth and beyond. Will Innis mind that, do you think?"

"Of course not." Duncan smiled. "She thrives on a household full of people. And she is completely enchanted by Eiric. The child loves her too, very much."

"I am so glad of it. Eiric has a warm little heart, and gives her love and devotion so freely. And she is happy to have little cousins to play with now. She needs playmates."

"She will have more when you and Kirsty give birth, with hers due just after our own."

"I had a dream last night, Duncan." She took his hand.

"Not ravens, I hope. My grandmother had that odd dream about a raven that wished to have me for its master, whatever that means."

"It means death, my love, did you not know? And I think her dream was saying that you would conquer death—and so you did."

He gave her a doubtful glance. "Well, I avoided it at least. What was your dream?"

"I dreamed that Kirsty gave birth to twin girls, blond like Magnus. And in the dream they grew older and chased our sons up and down the mountain slopes. And our oldest son was there, and he laughed as he climbed."

Duncan turned her hand in his, twining her fingers in his own. "Now that dream I will believe."

"We saw our boy climbing here once. And he will be with us soon—but not too soon. He likes to take his time, this one. He is like his father. Magnus and Kirsty's girls are impatient little ones and will be here before our son arrives."

"Is it so?" Duncan nodded. "And if our little one has patience from me, what does he have from his mother? Perhaps her gift of song," he mused. "Or so we may hope."

He stood then, helping her up. Pulling her back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around the bulk of her middle. Something stirred beneath his hands, and he smiled into her hair, resting his cheek on her head.

"Not so long ago," he said, "I thought I would never be happy at Dulsie again," he said. "But now I am grateful for so much."

Elspeth laid her hands over his, over the mound of their child nurtured within. She smiled. "Ah, but have you not heard the legend? Long ago, a fairy cast a spell in the form of a silver net, ensuring that the lairds of Dulsie will always return. You could not have stayed away from here all your life. That legend brought you home safely, Duncan Macrae."

"It did. Or was it my own fairy wife who brought me here again?"

She stepped away from him, taking his hand to draw him with her down the slope. "That fairy wife only said your doom now and then."

"Laid curses on me right and left, she did."

"At first." She glanced back over her shoulder and her eyes were the color of rain, her hair a rich sheen. She seemed to glimmer in the sunlight, filled with radiant strength and life.

Duncan paused and drew her to him, taking her into the circle of his arms. "Come here," he said. "You are more beautiful than any fairy."

She laughed, placing a finger gently to his lips. "Hush, you. The fairies may be listening."

"Let them," he murmured. "They will learn something about happiness." He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her, the fullness and depth of the kiss taking his breath.

The whirlpool spun, and he went with it. The laird of Dulsie was home at last.

The End

Author's Note

Each chapter in this novel is headed by a verse from an old Scottish song specifically chosen to complement the story. Most of the verses date to, or just before, the sixteenth century. A few are a bit later. While reading through collections of these wonderful old lyrics, like Francis James Child's English and Scottish Ballads, I could not always resist their poetry or meaning on the basis of date.

Sixteenth-century Highlanders spoke Gaelic almost exclusively, and the Loch Ness area was no exception. I wanted to create the cadence and sense of that language in the story's dialogue rather than use Scots English for all Scottish characters, which would simply have been inaccurate. Gaelic, still spoken today in the most remote areas of Scotland, is a poetic, breathy, complex language, and I wanted to honor that in the phrasing and rhythms of speech.

Lowlanders, then as now, spoke Scots English. This is not considered to be a dialect of English, but a form of that language in and of itself. In consideration for the reader, the Lowlanders in the novel speak a conservative version. Anyone interested in pure Scots English as used in fiction may wish to read works by Robert Louis Stevenson, and several modern Scottish writers as well.

Whenever possible, I wanted to remain true to Gaelic and Scottish traditions. But when it came to names, I often assigned English rather than Gaelic names to characters: Elspeth, Duncan, Kenneth, Ewan, and Hugh seem are more agreeable, if less authentic, over a few hundred pages, than Ealasaid, Donnochadh, Coinneach, Eobhann, and Uisdean.

No matter the language, I hope you found
The Raven's Wish
more than agreeable!

Happy Reading,

Susan